


Meaning

by Randominity



Category: Degrassi High
Genre: F/F, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-27
Updated: 2004-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-16 05:12:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Randominity/pseuds/Randominity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I shifted under her scrutiny, felt her hand slowly come up against my cheek. Reflex and experience told me to flinch away, but this was Spike, and I wanted it to be different because it was her.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meaning

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LJ 12/27/2004.

"...and Emma's got some more teeth coming in now, so she never wants to leave my side," Spike said, shaking her head. "Remember when she was teething the first time? I never saw so much drool in my life!" She laughed, but her teeth chattered together; we had our shoulders hunched against the December cold, standing on the front stairs of the school while I had a quick smoke after lunch.

A gust of wind blew Spike's hair up over her ears, and I could see the stud she'd just gotten in the cartilage at the top. It looked pretty, but a little red from the cold, and I wanted to tell her to be careful of an infection. I knew she'd just say _what, are you my mom now, too?_ though, so I kept my mouth shut about it. "Yeah, I remember you telling me about that," I said instead.

"But since I got an A on that last Algebra exam," Spike went on, "Mom said she'll watch Emma Friday night so I can go see a movie or something." She glanced at me sideways. "So-- you wanna come?"

"Yeah," I said, taking a drag off my cigarette and flicking the ash. "That sounds okay."

There was a time when she wouldn't have had to do that, wouldn't have had to ask me directly - I would have just assumed I was invited, and I'd have been right. But that was before she started going out with Patrick. Before she started going on dates again, and asking me if what she was wearing was okay, and if I thought Emma would like him. As if I hadn't practically helped her raise Emma the past year.

More than Shane could ever hope to, anyway, and that's even before he got all brain-damaged from jumping off that bridge.

A fringe of hair from my temple blew across my forehead, but my free hand was too warm in my jacket pocket to bother with it. I tossed my head a few times, then forgot about it. As usual, Spike took my silence for an invitation to keep talking. I didn't mind. "I don't know if there're any good horror movies playing at the Cineplex, though," she said. "Maybe we could just check out the indie theatre?"

"Sure." I shrugged, then decided to test the air. "Maybe you should ask Patrick what he wants to see."

Sometimes she'd let it go, sometimes not. "Liz." She looked at me sharply, her hair whipping across her face. She didn't even seem like she cared about it, didn't even blink. She really was perfecting her Stern Mom gaze. "I haven't even talked to Patrick since we broke up. Why are you still acting like you're jealous?"

Like I'm _jealous_? Oh, that was nice. "I dunno, Spike." I took another drag. "Maybe 'cause you're still treating me like you don't expect me to stick around."

The line between her eyebrows deepened, and she started to shake her head. "What are you talking about?"

I finally pulled my hand out of my pocket and tucked my hair behind my ears. I wanted to do the same for her. "You didn't have to ask if I wanted to come along, you know," I told her. "Like you have to check if it's okay with me."

Now she frowned at me outright. "Well, I'm sorry for thinking you might have a social life," she said.

"Oh, come off it," I snapped. "You know that's not what I meant." I lowered my voice. "I just meant you should know it's always okay with me." I shrugged, took a drag. "Always," I went on, examining the black of my fingernails against the white of the cigarette. "You should know that." My fingers were nearly as white as my smokes, from the cold. I was sort of interested in seeing if my fingers would start to turn blue before we went back inside.

"I do know that," she said. "I just. I didn't want to take you for granted, or--"

I cut her off. "I'm always here for you, and for Emma, period. It's not taking me for granted, it's just what is." I threw the butt to the ground and stomped it out, shoved my hands back in my pockets and started up the stairs before stopping and sighing. Turning back, I pulled my warmer hand free again and pushed Spike's hair back behind her ear, careful of her new piercing. Then I turned away again.

"Liz!"

I counted to three and took another deep breath before turning back around. "What?" I tried not to sound bored, but it was a reflex older than I could remember.

"That wasn't what you meant, was it?" Now she looked sad, like she was tired of practicing her Stern Mom look on me and had moved on to _I'm very disappointed in you_. It made me want to hug her, annoyed as I was. "This is why you never liked Patrick."

I rolled my eyes. "I never liked Patrick because he was an asshole."

"I'm sorry," she said, climbing the two steps that separated us and pushing my own hair back. I was pretty sure it hadn't blown free again yet, but I could've been wrong about that. "I didn't know what he was then." She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I didn't know what you were, either."

"Yeah, well." I shifted under her scrutiny, felt her hand slowly come up against my cheek. Reflex and experience told me to flinch away, but this was Spike, and I wanted it to be different because it was her. I hadn't realized I was so cold. "I didn't know how, um. you know. I felt, about you. Until he started being an asshole."

Spike nodded, pulling her hand away. I suddenly remembered we were still on the school steps, and maybe Spike remembered it too, remembered that Alexa might see us standing here and start gossiping that we were lesbos. Even if maybe we were. Or I was, at least.

"Listen," I said, jerking my head back to the school. "We gotta get going, all right?"

"Liz--"

"Just forget about it," I told her. "I'm not-- you don't have to-- I'm not asking for--" I sighed, blowing up my bangs in frustration and looking up at the sky. Suddenly I really wanted it to snow or something, anything, so we'd have something else to talk about already. "Just forget it," I told the sky. "Forget I said anything."

"Liz, your hand's cold," Spike said blankly, and reached for me, but I'd already pulled away.

~*~

We made it to English exactly on time, but Raditch glared at me anyway, probably smelling the smoke on me as we slid past him into the room. We read some stuff, some people asked questions, and I drew in my notebook. Spike was strangely quiet next to me, and I couldn't tell if the reason we weren't touching was because we were avoiding each other or if it was totally normal for us not to be touching. I couldn't remember how I normally acted around her in class anymore. If I sat back, away from her, I felt like I was trying to get away from her. If I leaned forward so she could pass me a note if she wanted, I felt like I was smothering her.

She didn't pass me any notes, anyway.

I had a spare in fifth while Spike had Algebra, and normally I'd wait for her, but not today. I figured I could use the walk home to clear my head, maybe think of something to tell Spike so she could stop being weird around me. It wasn't like I told her I loved her or anything. I just said she could count on me. What was so wrong with that? What difference did it make what the reason was? It still mattered, didn't it? Jesus.

"Hey, Liz," Spike yelled from the doors, and I glanced back to see her waving a slip of paper at me while jogging to catch up with me and trying to do up her jacket all at once. I stopped and waited for her.

"What are you doing here?" I asked her. "Your mom's gonna be pissed if you skip Algebra."

She waved the slip at me again. "I'm sick," she said, and grinned. "I think I might be coming down with something." She sniffed theatrically to make her point.

I smiled back at her despite myself. "How'd you know I'd be leaving?"

Spike shrugged. "It's what you do," she said simply, then glanced at me, her face serious. "I didn't want you to think I was freaking out on you or anything," she told me. "I was just surprised."

"It's okay," I shook my head, but she stopped me.

"You can stop freaking out anytime, too, you know," she said. "And stop pushing me away like you know what I want."

"You don't want me," I assured her.

"I don't know what I want," she admitted. "I've never really thought about it."

"If you have to think about it--"

"I didn't even know you liked me until, like, an hour ago!" Spike said. " I'm not like, 'oh, no way' about it, okay? I'm just. I didn't know."

"Yeah, sure," I said, tossing my head to escape the strands of hair blowing into my eyes. "But just so you know, if it's 'no', I'm okay with that, all right?"

"Fine."

We walked on in silence, and I wanted another smoke, but I was out for the day and didn't have enough money for a new pack. I rubbed my fingers together in my pockets and wondered if I could still keep my hands warm if I used them to cover my ears. I glanced at Spike and her ear was still kinda red. "You should be careful with that new earring," I said. "You don't want to get frostbite and have it get infected."

She grinned up at me. "Thanks, mom," she said, shaking her head.

I shrugged, but grinned back. "Just don't come complaining to me when it's all infected and you can't wear anything in the hole anymore."

"I won't, I promise," she said, then paused. "So hey," she added, casually. "I was wondering, did you wanna go see a movie with me Friday night?"

Of course she didn't have to ask. It wasn't the same question it had been before, even if my answer was going to be the same.

"Yeah, that'd be all right," I said.


End file.
